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March 27-28, 2019

 

The Scream

 

the Scream prowled the edges of my world, yesterday

it looked through the windows, it rattled the doors

it tried to find a way in to where I was trying to live

I wanted to let it in once or twice or a thousand times

but I almost always never did; there was just too much

squeezing into a day that was barely big enough for me

 


 

This poem is not to be thought of

as an interpretation of “The Scream”

by Edvard Munch. He had his problems,

I have mine. The name was a convenience.

 


Each New Day A Miracle
Copyright Peter Rhebergen
All rights reserved